


Snapshots of Buttercup

by liberallesbian37



Series: Project Team Beta's 2013 Writing Challenge [42]
Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-04 00:38:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1074990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liberallesbian37/pseuds/liberallesbian37
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten looks into Buttercup's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snapshots of Buttercup

**Author's Note:**

> Challenge Number/Title: 45/Animalize  
> Date Posted: 12/8/13  
> Fandom: Hunger Games  
> Rating: T  
> Genre: Canon  
> Content Descriptors: Some violence  
> Character Pairing: Implied Katniss/Peeta

I.

The sound of the door opening rouses me from the bed. I slink out of the bedroom, careful not to look too excited. It’s time for Blondie to get home, and I’m hungry. I wonder if she brought me any milk today. All I’ve eaten today is a starving mouse that I found underneath Blondie’s bed. Pretending not to care, I go into the kitchen. Disappointment meets me. Instead of Blondie, it’s the one with the braid. I hiss angrily at her and she glares at me.

                “Don’t think I won’t cook you, cat.”

                Her tone and expression suggest that whatever she just said wasn’t nice. I hiss again, as if to say _you’re not Blondie_.

                “I don’t know what Prim sees in you.”

                To show her my annoyance, I bite her ankle.

II.

Blondie is crying. She’s squeezing me too tight and her face is buried in my fur. She’s getting me wet with her tears, but I don’t make a move to get down. The one with the braid didn’t come home yesterday, and Blondie hasn’t stopped crying. I lick her hand in an attempt to make her stop crying, but she only starts shaking harder.

                “Oh, Buttercup. She’s gone. What if she doesn’t come back?” 

                Her voice is so different from the one with the braid. Where the other one is hard and angry, she is soft and kind. I nuzzle her hand and let her continue to squeeze me.

III.

The one with the braid is back and Blondie has finally stopped crying. The day she returns, Blondie picks me up and starts talking incessantly.

                “We’re moving to a new house, Buttercup! It’s going to be bigger than this place. From now on, you won’t have to eat just mice. And you can have milk every day!”

                She’s excited, I know that much. And the new house is nice. There’s a boy around the house all the time now. He’s not like Blondie, but he’s not like the one with the braid either. He mostly ignores me, but sometimes he pets me.

IV.

One day a man shows up. He looks strange, and smells funny, kind of live a mouse that I’ve started to tear up, but hasn’t died yet. Blondie clutches me to her chest, and I feel her heart pounding. The man pats her head on the way out and I hiss at him.

V.

The one with the braid is gone again. I couldn’t care less, but Blondie cries all the time. Something has changed. It isn’t like the first time the one with the braid left. People come and go from the house constantly. When she isn’t holding me and crying, Blondie is fussing over people lying on the table. She doesn’t let me outside anymore, not that I really mind. It’s cold outside and warm inside. There aren’t as many mice here as in the old house, but Blondie gives me pieces of meat and bowls of milk. Sometimes at night, I let her hug me until she falls asleep.

VI.

It’s morning when the fire comes. It rains down from the sky and explodes as it hits the ground. I find a hiding spot under a bush and wait for the fire to end. When it finally does, I search frantically for Blondie but she’s gone. Everyone is gone. The fire came and took them away. I’m alone. They left me. Blondie left me. I roam the streets, catching every stray mouse and rat I come across, even when I’m no longer hungry. There is not a living person left in the world.

VII.

I don’t know how long it’s been when I hear the noise. It sounds like before the fire, but the fire never comes. Even so, I hide under the same bush as before. A large monster lands in front of the house, and I hiss at it. Then, miraculously, people start walking out of the monster. I wait, watching, to see if Blondie is there. She isn’t, but the one with the braid is. I amble on over to her and hiss at her in greeting.

                “You ugly creature. You’re even more hideous than the last time I saw you.”

                Her tone lacks its usual bite and I almost rub against her leg. But then she grabs me and stuffs me in her bag and I remember that I hate her.

VIII.

“Buttercup!”

                 Blondie picks me up and cradles me against her. She smells funny, but I let her hold me. I even purr a little bit.

                “Oh, Buttercup. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. I can’t believe Katniss found you. Everything’s going to be okay.”

                Her gentle voice is soothing and I curl up on her lap, letting her words lull me to sleep.

IX.

One day Blondie leaves. And she doesn’t come back.

X.

“Go away, you stupid cat!”

                The one with the braid is yelling again. She does that a lot. I meow and she yells. We’re back in the house from before, the bigger one.

                I meow right in her face.

                “Get it through your head! Prim is not coming back! Ever! She’s dead. She’s dead and she’s never coming back. Okay? Okay?”

                Her yells gave way to sobs and then to soft cries. The boy runs up the stairs and wraps his arms around her. She lets him.

                “What happened?”

                She looks at me and points.

                “It’s that stupid cat. It won’t stop making noise.”

                He regards me cautiously and I bare my teeth at him.

                “Do you want me to get rid of it?”

                The girl looks at me and, for the first time in her life, reaches out and pets me.

                “No. It’s all I have left of Prim. This stupid cat is all I have left of my sister!”

                She starts sobbing again and throws herself down on the bed, curling onto her side. She looks so pitiful I can’t help myself. For the first time in my life, I nuzzle her hand. 


End file.
